Those Poor Pawns
by typewriter.legends
Summary: Tom Riddle's time at Hogwarts is almost up, and he still doesn't know where Ravenclaw's Diadem is. Thus, he enlists the help of a rather bookish Ravenclaw, who comes dangerously close to seeing through him. Luckily, he has all sorts of means of persuasion
1. The Immature Porridge Spoon Drop

The sound of rain drumming steadily on the windowpane was, annoyingly enough, nothing new to Valerie as she lay awake in her bed. It was four in the morning on a Saturday, and she couldn't sleep; a fact which bothered her even more than the constant presence of rain outside. The pattering sound was very pretty, no doubt, but the Ravenclaw prefect would have preferred a bit of sunshine to coax her out of bed in the mornings. Wishful thinking if she lived in Britain.

Mumbling to herself sleepily, Valerie Knight pushed the nice warm blue sheets off of her exhausted body and sat up, swinging her feet to the floor in one fluid movement. As it was so early, the rest of the seventh year dorm room was quiet, the air filled with sleep's deep, even breathing and the occasional snore. The prefect paused a moment before removing clothes from her trunk at the end of her bed to be jealous of her roommates, who could sleep all day if they so pleased. Actually, no, they couldn't, Valerie reminded herself. There was some sort of Quidditch match on today, wasn't there? She would probably end up going if Tam had anything to say about it.

Valerie was not a very social person. To be honest, people were intimidating to her. They all seemed so much more confident, and she always felt as if she couldn't compete, so she rarely went out on a limb to get to know anyone. It wasn't as if Valerie was particularly worried that she didn't have too many friends. Who needed a lot of friends, anyway? She had school work, which made more sense altogether than people did.

School work was the reason Valerie had risen so early. For a potions project, she needed dawn fungus freshly picked from one of the greenhouses. As the name suggested, dawn fungus needed to be harvested at dawn.

[i]Well, look on the bright side.[/i] Valerie reasoned with herself as she pulled on a pair of jeans and a sky blue blouse. [i]Slughorn sleeps late on Saturdays, so he won't be able to corner you about another of his stupid meetings.[/i] Much to Slughorn's distaste, Valerie had religiously been avoiding going to anything that had to do with the Slug Club. The reasons for that group being founded were as transparent as the founder himself, and, frankly, Valerie had no interest in sitting around pretending to care about what a bunch of 'gifted' children had to say about how wonderful they were. Of course, it didn't help that Tom Riddle was always at the center of conversation. He was another reason Valerie avoided the Slug Club.

It wasn't that Tom Riddle had ever been nasty to Valerie, or to any of the people she liked. He was a perfect gentleman. Too perfect, in fact. That was what annoyed her. He never seemed honest. His eyes were always calculating and, like Slughorn, he only spoke to people if he thought they could help him in some way. She didn't like how he regarded people as if they were pawns in some grand scheme of his, and she particularly disliked the way he acted as if he was something very special. It didn't help that people like Slughorn encouraged this, either. Was Valerie the only one who could look at Tom Riddle and see him for the lying, conniving scum he was? Probably.

Scowling as she brushed her long, dark red hair, the prefect reflected that, despite his narcissism and his obvious agenda, Tom Riddle was brilliant. He was clever, her equal and often better in every subject they took together. He was charming, and had a list of ex lovers longer than Valerie's arm. Of course, Tom Riddle was also devastatingly handsome, the bastard. She still couldn't stand being around him. It was like being around a venomous snake disguised as a beautiful tropical bird.

The boy in question had also been trying to talk to her for the last week, giving her yet another reason to avoid walking in the main hallways and using instead a few little known about routes. Fortunately, Valerie didn't have to use one of these routes as she made her way to the Green houses. Slytherins also slept late on Saturdays, usually because they had been up partying the night before, much to the distaste of everyone in Ravenclaw. For once, Valerie was rather pleased with the Slytherins for their decadent lifestyle, because it was that lifestyle that meant she could go about her early morning business with no disturbances from greedy teachers or arrogant head boys.

As to why Tom Riddle could possibly want to speak to her, Valerie was clueless. She certainly wasn't the type of girl he generally went after. Tom could normally be seen with some cute, blonde sixth year that seemed to need to giggle at everything Tom said. Valerie happened not to be cute, blonde or giggly, hence her confusion. It was clear that Riddle wanted something, though. As she made her way to the Greenhouses, Valerie reflected on the last time the Slytherin prefect had attempted to corner her.

"_Hey, Knight!"_

_Valerie turned around with a sigh as she heard her name being called out by her least favourite person. Well, it would be rude to ignore him now._

"_Yes, Riddle?" She kept her face politely blank as he approached her. Confusion crossed his handsome face for a moment before dissolving in to its default casual smile. _

"_Er, I was wondering if I could speak to you a moment, if you're not too busy." Tom reached up a hand to rub the back of his head, the perfect picture of a slightly nervous boy speaking to a girl and hoping not to be rejected. _

_Although Valerie wasn't fooled, she couldn't help acting shy. Confidence, especially the kind that comes from an inflated ego like Tom's, always threw her off and, even though she wanted to be nonchalant and possibly a tad rude, she just couldn't._

"_Oh, uhm, sure." She answered, clasping her hinds behind her back so that he couldn't see her fidgeting. God, she was pathetic._

"_Right, well I was wondering if-"_

"_Miss Knight!" Professor Dumbledore was calling to her, holding her report in one hand whilst beckoning with the other. "I must discuss this last paragraph with you. It's quite... daring" His eyes twinkled with laughter and Valerie found herself smiling at the professor in a grateful manner._

"_Of course, professor," She answered back, then turned to Tom. "Sorry, Riddle. Another time, I suppose?" She gave him a brief smile and then made her way over to the bespectacled professor, relief written plainly across her features._

An hour later, Valerie returned from the Greenhouses, completely soaked through with rain, splattered with mud, and, if possible, more annoyed with British weather than she had been before. As if it were the Great Hall's fault, she glared darkly up at the grey, rainy ceiling before seating herself at the empty Ravenclaw table. Her mood was lifted slightly by the smell of hot porridge and the fact that she had more than enough dawn fungus. Not only that, but the Great Hall was still reasonably empty, save for a melancholy-looking first-year in Hufflepuff and a hungover-looking Slytherin.

Realizing that she was still wet, Valerie waved her wand, muttering an incantation quietly, then watched as steam rose up from her clothes, which were wonderfully dry now. She didn't bother doing the same to her hair, which would only frizz up in to something more untamable than usual.

Valerie was halfway through her porridge, and almost in a good mood, when she saw Tom Riddle stroll through the doors of the great hall as if he owned the place. [i]Oh, honestly[/i], she thought exasperatedly, wondering if there was still time to hide under the table. [i]Don't be such a child.[/i] Instead, she pretended to drop her spoon and leaned over to pick it up, hoping that the table hid her well enough from the Head Boy's sight. Of course, that wasn't immature at all.

***

Tom Marvolo Riddle had gone to bed the night before in a state of semi-drunkness. His latest girlfriend, Susan (or was it Celine? He couldn't quite remember) had departed only moments ago after a very enjoyable evening, also in a state of semi-drunkness. All in all, it had been a very good night followed by a very deep sleep.

Naturally, Tom was less than pleased about being woken up at 5:30 in the morning by Soren's ugly face. On a Saturday, no less.

"Give me one good reason not to turn you in to a toad," the teenager moaned, rolling over and burying his face in his pillow.

"It's the Knight girl, Tom. She's in the great hall. Dieter just saw her come in."

At this Tom sat up, wincing at the protest his head gave. "Ugh, what in God's name is she doing up at this hour?" he asked no one in particular before reluctantly leaving his bed and glaring at the window. It was only just beginning to lighten outside.

Ten minutes and two anti-hangover charms later, Riddle was making his way up to the Great Hall quickly, scowling at the fact that he was almost the only person about. How typical that he would need the earliest riser in school to help him. Well, his efforts would not be in vain. He would get her today.

***

Valerie's foolish efforts to hide were, needless to say, in vain. As she came up from retrieving her spoon, she was graced with the sight of a pleasantly-smiling Riddle sitting next to her.

"Oh, good morning, Riddle." She acted only slightly surprised to see him. She was too tired to perform much more than that.

"Knight." Came his answer as he inclined his head in her direction. "How are you this morning?"

Valerie felt absolutely no desire to launch in to a discussion with him, but he had her now and that left her little choice. Still, she could dispense with the pleasantries as much as her infernal shyness would allow.

"Uhm... why exactly are you talking to me?" she asked, self-consciously averting her eyes from him and continuing to eat her porridge. He was watching her carefully, and it took a lot of effort not to shudder.

"What? I can't speak to my intellectual equal every now and then?" Tom was caught off-guard just a little by the fact that she didn't seem to be very impressed about him talking to her, hence his horrible air of forced casualness. Most girls would be praising the heavens for this chance and here, this one couldn't even look at him.

Valerie raised an eyebrow at Tom's response. She hadn't been considered his "intellectual equal" since first year. Everyone knew that Tom Riddle always came first. No draws. "Riddle... I-I'm not sure what it is you want, but I know that _that_'s probably not the real reason you're talking to me," she said slowly, not meeting his gaze and instead playing with her still-wet hair.

Tom regarded her curiously for a moment. She had clearly not fallen for his act of friendship and thank goodness, too. She should know that nobody was his equal. Still, it was unnerving how she saw through him and then managed to tell him as much with her shy, quiet manner. If anyone else had said it, it would have been rude.

He sighed in mock defeat and shrugged. "Fine, you've got me there. What I need is..." He paused a moment. This was about to be quite the momentous event never before had Tom Marvolo Riddle asked this of anyone. Ever. "I need your help."

Surprise managed to burn quickly through Valerie's externally reserved nature and she looked him in the eyes instantly, her grey ones meeting his green ones with scrutinizing intensity. "Wh-What do you need my help with?

Tom sighed and closed his eyes a moment. The worst was over. He had said it. He could relax, because he was in control again. The slytherin leaned forward engagingly, waiting for her to lean in as well. She didn't.

"Have you ever heard of Ravenclaw's lost Diadem?" Tom asked, making his eyes shine with intrigue.

Valerie didn't say anything for a while, simply examining Tom with her eyes piercing in to his in a most unnerving fashion. At last she spoke. "Riddle, I have two potions projects and a Herbology essay due this afternoon, and don't even get me started on what they have us doing for defense against the dark arts. I honestly don't have time to deal with your jokes. I don't believe in myths like that, just like I don't trust you. So, if you want to mess around with someone, then I'm not going to let it be me." She stood up, keeping her gaze level and unusually cold. "Enjoy your Saturday, Tom Riddle." With that, she left, walking quickly in to the nearest girls' bathroom and shutting the door behind her.

It took several big, deep breaths for Valerie to stop shaking. Here, she had thought that for a moment, Tom was being serious. How could she have been so stupid? Of course Riddle had been trying to play a trick on her. That was all boys like him did to girls like her. But, honestly, he could have been a bit more original. Ravenclaw's lost diadem was such a silly story that it was a wonder he thought she could have fallen for it.

Well, she wouldn't be making the mistake of putting up with him again.

***

Tom watched Knight leave the hall, bag slung over one fragile shoulder. Well, that hadn't gone according to plan. He slumped forward on the table in front of him and massaged his temples. Clearly, a different approach would have to be tried. She wasn't going to get away from him that easily.


	2. Owl Droppings

_AN: Okay, sooo I figure that some author's notes are in order. I should have put them in the last chapter but uh, I was still trying to figure out how to put up a story properly and... yeah. Clearly, I am a sad newbie. _

_Anyway, this story is in fact a romance, if not a bit of a one-sided one. Don't worry, Tom isn't going to change for anyone, not even Ms. Knight (yep, it's an OC). I'm so sick of those stories where Tom Riddle like, stops being a bastard and falls in love. Nope, none of that here. I'm going to try to keep him as in character as I possibly can, and that means no turning un-evil. _

_This does take place in his seventh year, which means that he's already made one Horcrux (the diary) and gone off to kill his family. But more of that in this chapter. _

_What have I forgotten? Oh right: ratings. Yeah, this is teen. It's not particularly violent (yet) and you're not gonna be getting any sex-scenes from me. Frankly, I always feel awkward writing them and I giggle whenever I type certain words. I'm hopeless. _

_One last thing: You're reading the second chapter! That means that you probably got through the first chapter and were at least sort of engaged (or you're procrastinating from studying for exams, which is okay as well, since that's how this story came in to being.). Either way, thank youuuuu! May you never run out of cupcakes. =D_

* * *

It had been a week since the porridge incident and Valerie was idly contemplating murder. Tom Riddle had been making her life very, very difficult as of late. It wasn't enough that he somehow managed to be wherever she was at all times, apparently. Now, it seemed that he was trying to get them stuck together in as many situations as possible, up to and including detention.

Thus, rather than spending her morning gradually waking up in a warm bed at a decent hour, followed by a trip to Hogsmeade, Valerie would be getting out of bed at a ridiculously early hour for the second week in a row to undergo detention with – you guessed it – Tom Riddle. She wasn't upset because this was her first detention since third year, or because it involved cleaning every nook and cranny in the owlery while everyone else would be buying delicious chocolate treats. It didn't even bother her that much that she had to wake up very, very early to do her task. No, what irked her more than anything was the fact that she would be spending this delightful day with a stuck-up Slytherin Head Boy, and he was more than happy to spend it with her.

Of course, she should have seen it coming the moment Tom asked to be her partner in Herbology. She turned her back for _one_ second and all of a sudden the entire class had wranglesprat juice raining down on them. This resulted in a rather nasty breakout of (literally) flaming acne on the entire class, save for Valerie and Tom, of course. When the Herbology professor had turned her steely gaze upon Valerie and her partner, the Ravenclaw had known that she was doomed.

Thus, it was with a heavy heart that Valerie entered the owlery, which had been generously cleared of owls to make the task of cleaning it a tad easier. Her heart was made heavier by two things. The first one being the thick-looking layer of grime and feathers that coated the floor, and the second one being Tom's bright smile. Honestly, who could look that pleased with themselves at this early hour?

"Good morning, Valerie," Tom said pleasantly, his eyes following her path to the buckets and mops left in a corner for himself and his partner to use.

Valerie almost flinched at the use of her first name. She would have preferred him to use her last name: it was so much less personal. Calling her Valerie just seemed too friendly, and she wasn't at all ready to be friendly with him.

"Morning, Riddle," she answered tiredly, deciding that hostility in the early morning was not only beyond her but would probably only make the day worse.

***

Tom was very, very happy.

It had taken a week, but at last he had the Knight girl all to himself for as long as he wanted, which was perfect.

The girl didn't seem agitated so much as in low spirits. This was a good sign; it meant Tom had beaten her. This day kept getting better and better, didn't it? Not even a thick layer of owl waste products could ruin his mood.

He had to play it cool, though. If he rushed right in to the subject, he would probably lose her again and end up having to spend the whole day in an awkward silence.

"So..." he began, coming up behind her and reaching around her to grab a mop. He made sure not to touch her. Contact at this point in the game would startle her, and she was such a delicate little thing... "Do you have an owl here?" There, easy and not hinting at a thing. Just basic small-talk. Tom stopped a small smirk from forming on his perfect features. Sometimes he was so brilliant at playing people that he amazed himself.

"Mhmm?" She turned her head from the area of floor she had started on to look at him. Her eyes were a little bewildered, as if she had been thinking about something else and forgotten Tom was there. Had she meant to annoy him like that? Probably not, since her answer wasn't in any way mean or aloof. "Oh, no, not really. I don't get that much mail and if I do the Hogwarts Owls deliver it to me."

"Why is that?" Tom asked, hiding his annoyance very well by concentrating on his own area of floor as he spoke.

"You mean why don't I get mail?"

"Yes." God, these owl droppings were hard to mop up. It was a shame they couldn't use magic.

"I-I don't know. I guess that there isn't really anyone to write to me and I always borrow my friend's _Daily Prophet_."

"Surely your parents send you letters?"Tom paused in his work to look at her. Valerie's back was to him, but he could still see the way she froze a moment before replying.

"Do _you_ have an owl here?" She turned to face Tom, her eyes meeting his. He could see right through her bad method of changing the subject, but decided not to push it further. It wasn't as if he really wanted to have a conversation about parents, in any case. It was a very touchy topic indeed, especially for him.

"Nope. I don't have one for the same reason as you, I suppose." He shot her a smile before she returned to her work and he did the same.

Valerie didn't respond for a while, to the point where Tom assumed that the conversation had come to halt. However, just as he was about to ask another question to keep the chat going, she started to laugh.

"It's a bit funny, isn't it?" She said, chuckling lightly.

"What is?"

"We must be the only two prefects in Hogwarts without owls and yet we're cleaning out the owlery."

Tom regarded her a moment. This was the first time she had ever smiled at him with genuine feel and no suspicion in her eyes. It was kind of nice: it meant progress. He grinned too and shook his head. "We're stuck cleaning up remnants of dead mice and you're laughing at the irony?"

Valerie nodded "It's better than sulking and disliking you for getting us in to this mess in the first place."

"Point taken."

***

A few hours had passed since the start of their punishment and Valerie had warmed up to Tom. Either he really wasn't as bad as she had thought or he was a very good actor. For some reason she couldn't explain, Valerie couldn't help but feel it was the latter. Even though Tom was funny, charming, and keeping up his end of the work, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was in a controlled situation. It was silly, but whenever the boy smiled at her or asked her a question, she saw emotion in his eyes, certainly, but there was something... missing.

Perhaps it was simply her obvious bias against Tom.

She was chatting away with Tom, much more comfortable now, when a voice boomed seemingly out of nowhere: "It is now lunch. You may cease your punishment for an hour. Food will be provided." As the voice spoke, a small table appeared laden with sandwiches and hot tea. Two plain wooden chairs were placed on either side of the table, looking unnervingly brittle. It was because of this that Valerie sat down so gingerly, as if the chair would break at any moment.

***

"Your ring," Valerie began, pointing at the large, crest-engraven stone on Tom's hand. "Where did you get it?" Tom could tell that she was simply trying to start a conversation, but he couldn't help feeling slightly defensive for a moment before slipping back in to his normal casual grace.

"This? It's just an old family heirloom." He glanced down at it momentarily, hiding the swell of pride that came whenever he admired it. This ring proved he was special, just like it symbolized the cleansing of his filthy family. His digusting blood traitor of a mother had, unfortunately been unavailable for revenge, as had his father. His father's parents had not been so lucky. And then, his pure blood family. What a disappointment they'd turned out to be. Lost in their own extravagance, dreaming of what had once been. All that ancestral power and not doing a thing about it. They had deserved what came to them as well.

Valerie's brow creased for a moment. "Aren't you... an orphan?" This was actually common knowledge amongst Hogwarts students, and Tom didn't mind it so much, as it made him seem all the more heroic, having come from so little to achieve so much.

"Yes. This is all I have left of my family, I'm afraid." He feigned a sad smile. "I'm told it once belonged to the great Salazar Slytherin himself." At this point, it was slightly more difficult to withhold the smugness from his voice.

The girl stared at the ring thoughtfully for a moment longer, then looked up at Tom. "Well, it's good you have something to tell you who you are."

Despite himself, Tom smiled at this. Valerie had nailed it. Most girls would assume that he kept it as a reminder of the family itself, not of his actual heritage. It appeared that, either Valerie was more observant, or she had a reason to see more from his point of view. Interesting.

And what a fantastic way to win her sympathies. Now was his chance.

"Hogwarts is who I am," he answered. "That's why I want to know more about it than anyone. I want to see all its treasures."

The softness of the girl's expression disappeared a moment and she fixed a level, penetrating stare on Tom.

"You're talking about Ravenclaw's Diadem, aren't you?"

Tom was momentarily taken aback at how quickly she had seen through him. He didn't like how she did that. Fortunately, he recovered well with a faked nervous laugh. "Was it that obvious?"

"Tom," she said slowly, as if thinking about what she was going to say next "The diadem... it's a myth. You know that, right? It's one of those stories that the Sorting Hat likes to sing about to make its songs more interesting, and that's it."

Tom knew that this was this was the moment that everything was riding on. "But what if it's not? What if it really exists? What would happen if we found it? It would be our very own recovered piece of Hogwarts." Tom silently congratulated himself, not only on his excited tone, but also on the use of the words 'we' and 'our.'

"Don't you have enough trophies, Tom?"

What he said next would probably define her decision. He already had her swaying in his direction, now all he had to do was give a little pull.

"Not any shared ones. Hogwarts is important to you too, isn't it? You don't go home for Christmas, and you don't get letters. This is as much your home as it is mine. We could do this! And it would _mean_ something to us." He knew he had hit a nerve, because the crease on her brow deepened just a little bit more, and she stared down at her empty plate, chewing her lip thoughtfully.

"It-It's not fair that you used my... dependence on Hogwarts to your advantage, Tom," she said finally, her eyes suddenly boring in to his. Tom held his breath; he hadn't been expecting her to see that. "If we're going to be working together on finding that diadem, then you'd better not use it again." The Head Boy let out his breath slowly, hiding his relief. For a moment, he had been worried that she wouldn't go for it. Thank goodness his gamble had worked. And to think, he had been about to resort to less peaceful means of persuasion...

He didn't like how she saw through his acts with her quiet, thoughtful manner, just like he didn't like how she always managed to phrase her thoughts in a way that couldn't provoke him. No, she'd have to learn to stop looking beyond the places he wanted her to look. And she'd have to learn sooner rather than later.


End file.
